


W I N T E R

by elisabetheve



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 06:26:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11777349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisabetheve/pseuds/elisabetheve
Summary: "What is honor compared to a woman's love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms...[...] We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love."©elisabetheve





	1. Chapter 1

**O N E**

”So, I’ll be moving out in like…a week,” I spoke, pouring myself a cup of coffee from the kettle. ”I just wished it was sooner.” I took a seat in the leather armrest chair next to my best friend and coworker Eve Laughter.

A week, seven whole days until I could move out of that retched place I called home. A week isn’t that long, but to me it felt like a eternity. Visually the apartment I was living in at the moment was beautiful. A old victorian apartment that had undergone a comprehensive refurbishment and restoration of the interior and exterior. Underfloor heating, generous ceiling heights and natural lights accompanied with beautiful views overlooking Hyde Park. But the neighbors were awful, always complaining about this and that, and the walls - I swear - as thin as paper. A architectural design flaw, which obviously decreased the value of the apartment and making it hard to sell.

You could practically hear the water pipes working overload as soon as someone decided to take a quick shower, work a tap or even flushing the toilet. In all honesty it was ridiculous. It was ridiculous that someone would build such a beautiful apartment complex and just completely overlook the fact that human beings need privacy, they need generous amounts of volumes. Not the sound of water pipes, and defiantly not the sound of their next-door neighbor making sweet love to one another at night.

There was this unwritten rule at this apartment complex, where you aren’t allowed to take a shower before 6:00 am, or after 9:00 pm. This creating problems for me, since I had to leave for work at 5:30 am. If you had the audacity of not obeying by the rule, all hell would break loose and you’d be kicked out of your own place before you could even say ’Home sweet home’.

”I can’t even believe that you’ve lasted this long,” Eve replied, putting her phone down as she let out a deep sigh, and stretching out her arms yawning. ”You’ve lived there for what, a year?” I nodded in reply as I took a large sip from my cup, my whole body aching, craving for caffeine.

Today had been a good day so far, despite not being to able to take a shower in the morning. Other than that everything had run smoothly. My rounds at the retirement home went fine, I got the best one’s today and I was quiet thankful for that because I believed I had one maybe two shots too many yesterday when I went out clubbing with my sister. The most eventful thing that happened today, was when Mr. River, a 98 year old man, lost all senses and began calling me his wife. He was a sweet, and charming man, and judging by his old photo’s he would show once in a while, he was a complete stag during his thirties. I’d defiantly date him, if he was thirty now.

My phone began to vibrate, and as I pulled it out of my pocket a groan managed to escape from my lips. This obviously peaked Eve’s ears and curiosity. I showed her the caller ID.

Ryan.

Ryan was a guy I had been dating for about two months. He offered me of being his girlfriend, and I had yet to give him an answer. And I believe that his reason for calling. ”Eve’s what are you doing later? I can’t handle Ryan right now,” I declined his calling, looking over towards Eve who was smirking towards me as she let her chin rest on top of her knuckles.

”Movie night?” was her reply.

”At…Seven-ish?”

• • • •

  
After a couple of beers, a bottle of red whine and a whole season of Sherlock later, Eve and I ended up walking in the direction of the apartment I was moving into in about a week. This apartment complex was situated in a area that I had not visited before. Hackney. This was an area completely different from the one I was used to, apparently Eve had been here before and ensured me that this area was completely fine. I did not believe her. But I had to be thankful for even getting a apartment on such short notice, and it was thanks to my father. He had offered it to me in kindness after he came on a brief and rather unannounced visit and experienced first hand the hell I was currently living in.

The apartment used to be owned by my grandmother, Signe Karinsdottir, who, unfortunately, passed away a few months ago. My father had dropped of they key a couple of days ago and I was quiet curious in what state Signe had left the apartment in. All I knew was that all her belongings and such were still there. My father had told me that I could keep or throw away whatever I saw fit, she did not have anything of sentimental value that he himself wanted to keep. His words sounded a bit to harsh for my taste, but I knew that the relationship between them had not ended on good terms. I can recall several times when he would call her by names I wish not to repeat, but the one thing that made an impact on my grandmother and visibly hurt her was when he said that she had finally lost in. She had finally lost all grip of reality… and the day after she passed away.

She was found in the streets a cold December night frozen to death.

As we entered the apartment, I believe, both Eve and I were caught of guard by how small it was, and the awful state it was in. It was a attic they had remodeled into a small apartment, one side of the roof was pitched forcing both me and Eve to stoop when we walked further in. I tried the light switch but there was no electricity, this I should have foreseen since the electricity bill probably hadn’t been paid since father took over the apartment. ”See if you can find some candles,” I spoke to Eve pointing to some drawers. I dug my phone out from my pocket and used it as my source of light as I walked further into the apartment.

To be honest, the state of the apartment was rubbish. It was terrible, and I immediately began to question why father still owned it. Was it because he was feeling guilt of how he had treated his own mother the last years of her life? I cursed quietly to myself as I managed to step onto something sticky. I sighed loudly and began to inspect the rest of the apartment.

There was a small kitchenette right in the hallway, a little bathroom with a shower, and a small sink right in front of the toilet. A sigh parted from my lips, my knees were certainly going to hit the sink every time I was going to use the loo. There weren’t that much space left, there was only room for a rather small single bed, a squared kitchen table accompanied with two chairs, a bookcase that was built in to the wall and a dresser. All my things could never possibly fit in here.

The floor boards creaked and complained as I carefully walked to the only window in the entire apartment. Shaped like a crescent moon it overlooked the courtyard of vines and yellow grass. ”Found the candles,” Eve started to light up three of them and placed them carefully in three brass holders. There was a lot be done if I was going to be able to live here. There was dirty dishes in the sink, on the kitchen table, the floors were all covered with a ridiculous sum of books, torn out pages filled with scribbles and drawings. Above the bed, on the white wall my grandmother had painted a map of a country with cities I had never seen, nor heard of before.

Westeros.

Winterfell.

Castle Black.

Dragonstone.

Highgarden.

”I’m sorry to say this W,” Eve picked up a piece of parchment from the floor handing it to me. ”Your Nan was definitely a sausage or two short of the full English breakfast.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**T W O**

A week had finally passed.

The seven days that felt like an eternity had gone by quicker then I thought they would. My new apartment had undergone a sever refurbishment, at least when it came to cleaning and painting. I didn’t even recognize the place myself. I had packed all the belongings that were Signe’s in to four separate cardboard boxes that where, now, neatly stacked on top of each other in the small hallway. Eve had scrubbed the wooden floorboards, and cleaned and painted all the walls, except for the one with the drawing. For some unexplainable reason a part of me wanted to keep it. Study it. It was as if I believed that it would some how help me understand what was going through my grandmother Signe’s mind before she passed.

We had cleaned every possible inch of this apartment, and it was finally spotless. It all took only eight hours, and we’re talking about a space only double the size of Harry Potter’s room under the stairs. So you can imagine the chaos that lived in this apartment. We had gone through and fixed almost everything on our todo list, except for two things.

The bookcase, and the window that wouldn’t open.

Eve had left a couple of minutes ago just as the night took over the sky and the moon with its silver ray of light trespassed into the apartment. She was tired, exhausted and I could not blame her. I knelt by the bookcase, the only source of light available a single candle that I had placed next to me. I allowed a sigh of exhaustion to part my lips, I too was tired. I had work in the early morning as well, but I just wanted to finish. The last thing on my list I could fix at this hour was the bookcase, and I wanted to take my own time in doing this.

The books resting on the shelves were all old, and well worn. My grandmother must have cared for these books, they must have been quiet special to her. Other books had been scattered across the floor, but not these. No, they had been tucked away in their safe haven, far away from any harm. Carefully I let the tips of my finger graze the spine of each book. They were very old, and it looked as if they would dissolve just by the slightest touch. Some of them had titles, other’s were covered in different sigils.

Storm of Swords.

A sigil of a lion

A sigil of a three-headed dragon.

A sigil of a wolf.

I read each title that I passed, the next stranger then the other. My gaze stopped at one book, a crimson colored book with the title A Song of Fire and Ice. Out of pure curiosity and a wish to further understand what my grandmother was reading I pulled the book out and began to read a chapter named Azor Ahai. Almost at an instant I became appalled of the words in front of me. It was a legend, about a man called Azor Ahai, he was a hero chosen to fight against the darkness that laid across the land. He began to forge a sword and labored for thirty days and thirty nights until it was done. The sword broke when he went to temper it in water. He then a second time forged another sword for fifty days and fifty nights, and yet again it broke when he captured a lion and drove the sword into its heart. The third time he worked on the sword for a hundred days and hundred nights until it was finished. This time he called for his wife and asked her to bare her breast. He drove the sword into her breast, her soul combining the steel of the sword, creating Lightbringer…

I quickly put the book back into its place on the shelf. In complete awe of the story of Azor Ahai and his wife Nissa Nissa. The words haunted me, bringing me to a complete and utter chock of the dark things my grandmother had read. I did not dare to open up another book. That’s when my gaze stopped at one that stood out from the rest. It had no title, nor a sigil on its spine. It was a empty canvas and yet it was the most well worn book of them all. I grabbed it carefully and with one swift motion I pulled it back, but it wouldn’t budge. It remained in the exact same spot as before. I tried once more and yet again nothing happened. Odd, was my only thought. It had worked with the other book, but why not this one?

I contemplated in my mind how strange this whole situation was. Had Signe glued it in place just as a practical prank? I tried once more, this time with even more strength in my grip. I pulled and pulled and yet it would not budge.

So I hit, obviously a bit frustrated and suddenly it moved a few millimeters backwards. I began to push it further in. It glided backwards with ease, and soon enough the wall gradually began to shake a bit. I could feel the bookcase moving, opening up the same way a door would. A soft breeze began to blow and soon enough there was a small crack making it possible to peak through and see what secrets where hiding behind the bookcase.

A landscape, covered in untouched white snow, and tall green trees. My heart stopped and without further hesitation I closed the door and pushed myself far away from it.• • •  
The sun had started to rise, its rays peaking through the small window I had called in sick from work. I had not been able to sleep all night due to what I had seen. I tried to come up with a reasonable explanation. That I had somehow created it, it was my own imagination caused by the unusual stress I’ve endured these past couple of days. Moving from one place to another, having to settle down, its hard on the human psyche. Or maybe it was caused due to the lack of sleep? I hadn’t had a good nights rest for a while now, to be honest, I couldn’t even remember the last time I had slept through an entire night.

Maybe it was a mixture of both? Yes, it had to be.  
There was no other explanation.

My knees were pressed against my chest, my red hair pulled up in a ponytail and my eyes fixated on the bookcase. But I knew what I saw. I had even felt a small breeze touch my skin. It had to be real? One cannot imagine things like that. My sanity was carefully crashing around me, I couldn’t take it anymore. Slowly I got out of bed and carefully walked towards the bookcase. I had to be sure. I had to be sure that this was true. That I wasn’t loosing my mind because of unusual stress or lack of sleep. Some part of me wanted this to be true.

My fingers touched the book and lingered there for a while. I needed a logical answer. I took a deep breath, collecting the last sane senses that my being possessed. I pushed the book backwards, feeling my heart begin to race as the wall carefully shook as it had done before. I let the door open itself all the way this time, a cold chilling wind struck me in the face like a whip, my cheeks and nose becoming red almost at an instant. There it was, much like before, the untouched snow and the tall green trees.

I wanted to cry, I wanted to laugh. I was unsure of how to react and it was deeply unsettling. Did this mean I was finally loosing it? You know what they say, crazy do sometimes run in the family. Or was this possibly true and not some imagination…I needed more proof.

I reached out, my hand shaking an uncontrollably amount. I could obviously not trust my own eyes, I needed to feel it to be true, I needed to feel something in order to believe that this whole vision in front of me was in fact real. A touch would never lie. I closed my eyes as my hand traveled further and further down, it almost felt as if I would fall straight down, down into a black hole but that’s when I felt it.

The cold wet feeling of snow. I opened my eyes, my eyes widening at the sight of my hand as I buried it deeper into the snow.

”Holy shit.”


End file.
